Roland might disagree. For someone who claims to be so slow, Firo's certainly figured out the best tactic with no hesitation at all. That thought does not truly settle in Roland's mind, only touches down, finds little room to land there, and moves on. Roland does not acknowledge the look Firo gives him. He only stares at the Capitol's man, evenly.

"Well," the man says after a moment, blinking away and looking toward Firo instead. "Well, we'd best get started, then."

"Change of plans," Roland says, flat and abrupt. "First one's to be set off elsewhere. That way." He nods away from where the man'd been headed. That first direction would have taken them near a peacekeeper patrol. This new direction? Roland doesn't know. He doesn't nod at Firo, either, doesn't try in any way to remind him that he'd agreed to look out for likely isolated spots. Still a bit strange, in the back of his mind, to be doing this with someone whom he's hardly fought. Men sometimes act very differently in a real fight than they will at any other time, and the last time they'd tried to fight together-

Well. This will go well, or it won't, no matter how many times Roland has to remind himself not to turn it over in his mind any more. Too much time with nothing to do but turn things over in his head, he thinks. It's changed him, and not in a way he likes.

The snow. Think on that. The chill and the thinness of the air which comes along with being this high up, both things he's felt very seldom. Think on making his way through it, and there's no reason to look back to see if their Capitol man is following. Firo will keep him on track. Or he won't. Peacekeeper patrols will catch them out, or they won't. If nothing else, Roland's still in shooting range.

But Firo. Firo's a complication. Think on that later.